God's Away On Business
by kataract52
Summary: How terrible was the Brood infiltration of the Assassins Guild? Inspired by H.P. Lovecraft.


**Notes:** The Brood infiltration of the Assassins Guild was mentioned in X-Men (2nd series) issues eight and nine but not seen on panel. I've taken some artistic license in the re-telling. The story's been heavily influenced by a recent dive into H.P. Lovecraft's short stories and the title comes from the fantastic Tom Waits song by the same name.

 **God's Away On Business**

On a starless night, death rolled into New Orleans. Belle was still wearing her mourning dress. She violently threw Granny's former things into boxes and the trash can, but the noise did little to conceal the Old Man's sobs. The house stank of decay, which was odd. It had just been re-built in the wake of the Storm. It should smell _new_.

Perhaps the red-faced hatemongers were right and the soul of the city was so corrupt that Hell seeped up from the ground beneath them.

The Dark King came in the body of Jean-Luc LeBeau, who often acted as vessel for the Devil. He sensed weakness in his old adversary and had come like a hungry wolf to a sick calf. Lips moist, eyes focused, ears pert – he did not realize the White King had already folded. The Old Man sacrificed himself to LeBeau ambition: a blind monster with hundreds of hands but no mouth to sate its hunger.

"You've got me wrong, petite," he said. "I'm here as a friend. _Please_." And here his voice softened, "Let me help. You're too _young_ to shoulder all this."

Youth was a spiraling tunnel that went neither up nor down. The old, however, were all the same dying star. Once the core was dead, they collapsed into a black hole. Nothing could survive or escape the ravages of time and the young were left to hold up the sky while those immortal storms ripped it down.

Case and point: the Old Man had fifty years with his bride. Belle didn't have fifty seconds with her beloved husband. Her loss was dismissed for the shortness of it. As if time ruled love! Now the wolves and old crows circled the White King, praising his pain as evidence of his devotion. Where was her praise? Where was her time? Where was her love?

"You stupid, _selfish_ girl!" Jean-Luc roared, gripping her arms. He must've read her mind, for she hadn't spoken her thoughts… Had she? "What do _you_ know-?"

An inhuman howl rang between them. His eyes widened in terror and for good cause. It was her, but not her voice. Something else had taken possession of her body and cried out.

Luc released her, but not before the Old Man rushed into the room. She collapsed, howling and writhing, and her grandfather pulled a firearm from his side.

"What the hell did you do?!"

"I barely touched her, Marius! She- she's unhinged!"

"Come 'round my home again and it'll be the _last_ thing you do!"

Palms exposed, the Dark King peacefully retreated. As he exited, death slipped in and turned off the lights. A colorless space filled the room with shadows. Something lurked in the darkness, snapping and clawing at the distortions that held back the madness.

Belle pretended not to know, but she could not un-see the man sitting quietly in the corner. Perched on the Old Man's arm-chair, his legs were crossed and he wore a white suit. She couldn't make out his face, but she knew him. Years ago, after a lifetime of torment, Julien pushed her too far. He took too much. So she drugged him, drove him into the bayou, and buried him alive. The city hadn't whispered his name since, so this figure of her brother was a specter. Ghosts could inflict no _real_ harm.

"So good t' be home," he said, striking a match. The flame drew near the cigar clenched between his scarred lips and she saw his disfigured, monstrous face. The light died. "Wassa matter? Don't like what you see? You made it."

She backed to the fireplace and grabbed the poker. "Go back to hell!"

"Go back? You are _there_ , baby sister. Welcome home."

The room darkened until she was utterly blind. The snapping drew nearer. She knew the way to the door, even blind, so she rushed outside and felt Satan nipping at her heels.

Let's see the Devil keep pace with the Old Man's truck!

Before Julien inhaled his final, miserable breath, he had cursed her to Hell. He'd unleashed this abomination and tore open the fabric of time and space, damning the innocent along with her. But she knew how to break his death-curse.

In the bayou, she took a familiar and long-abandoned trail down to the water. She'd buried him there. Unwittingly, she'd planted a seed of evil that now needed ripped out, torn, and thrown to the winds. But the ground had caved over his casket, and the pock-marked gape beckoned her.

Trembling, breathless, she leaned over and peered into the abyss. Darkness. She edged closer, like a nervous fox doomed by its own curiosity.

A spear shot out and struck her chest. Then another. Instantly paralyzed, she watched in horror as an enormous cockroach emerged from the deep. The slimy insect was only the monster's head. A humanoid body with long, spear-like arms snatched her into its lair. Inside the abyss, she heard an army swarm towards her.

…

Ripped from her nightmare, Belle crashed onto the floor and scrambled for the light. Violet eyes darted nervously around the room and then down to her belly.

 _Demons and monsters and aliens._

These horrid creatures still lived all around her. The vision in her dream hadn't been a nightmare, but a memory of an alien race known as the Brood. They had infected her city, hijacked her mind, and planted an egg inside her. When she'd gone to the X-Men for help, she never thought the price of life would be her soul. Her flesh barely survived, her mind remained fractured, and her immortal spirit-

" _What's the matter? Can't sleep?"_

"Go back to hell, Julien," she whispered. "Leave me alone."

Her soul was forever gone.

" _Everyone else leaves. Not me. I am your only friend."_

She clutched a rosary between trembling hands and prayed until the sun rose. The holy words didn't banish the Brood or the memory of its egg festering inside her; nor did Julien's specter diminish in the least. God was away on more worthy business.

…

 _The End._


End file.
